A Thousand Years Between
by mrs.aperture
Summary: Slow burn Theomione, with a side helping of Dramione. Eighth year fic. EWE
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This story will be rated M in the future.**

Prelude

She wears the ghost of a smile etched into her face, almost nineteen years worth of laughter formed into invisible lines in her cheeks. She's tasting victory, while he wears the mask of something he does not know. His "side" lost, but he feels something along the lines of relief rushing through his body, coursing through his veins. He shouldn't feel this way, or so eighteen years worth of life would have him believe, but he does if only because of that ghost of smile still fading from her face as she makes small talk with other members of the resistance. He knows he will be a member of the downfall of the victory, a soon to be convict, someone who never got to chose for himself but he must deal with his parent's actions, but for now he will be a attender to the immediate celebration, he will watch for those honey colored eyes and that wild mass of hair in the crowd.

He yearns for her to meet his eyes, to acknowledge his existence if only for a minute, so that after her eyes meet his, he can make the motions to move on. Move on from nothing to nothing, he never had anything with the spectacular witch he watches. He watches knowingly as she joins fiery haired, gangly Weasley. The smile returns on her delicate face and her hands joins his hand. Weasley kisses her hand softly before placing another kiss on her forehead. And here is the heartbreak he feels watching her in innocent love with someone he will never be. She deserves this happiness, he knows this but he had a dream once that it was him making her smile. It was a ridiculous dream anyway.

He turns to leave the crowd, he needs to go home and start sorting his father's affairs anyhow. He misses seeing her give Weasley a peck on the cheek before rushing off to the edge of the crowd in the same direction as he is travelling. Neither are paying attention when they collide, she nearly topples over unto the cold, debri covered stone path, but he reaches out and steadies her. Her hand in his and he feels tingles and sparks so strong that he knows she must feel it too, but she maintains her normal demeanor. A small, thankful smile for him spreads across her chapped lips.

"Nott," she breathes and his name is like a melody formed from her tongue. Sweet and beautiful, he yearns for another taste of his name on her lips. "Thank you."

She gently pulls her hand from his and in the motion, he sees the scar, red and abrasive, marring the creamy skin. "Mudblood". Without thinking he grabs her arm to see, to touch the word. Her honey eyes widen in shock but he has her speechless as his thumb runs over the scar, raised and jagged with the beginning of healing.

"This isn't you," he manages despite the monster clawing at his throat forbidding him to finally, _finally_ , speak to her after seven years of long stares, daydreams of what could be, memorizing details of her face, catching her in her favorite nook in the library, seven years of longing. He knew at eleven years old that the buck-toothed plain girl, who wasn't considered the same blood as him but who had powers beyond any of his other classmates, was special. He could feel it his bones and surging through his blood. His father would sooner he'd die than for him to be in love with a "mudblood", his friends would have made him an outcast if they had known, so he spent seven long years laughing at jokes he found no humor in and discussing with his father the Dark Lord's ideas. "Your blood is the same as mine, Hermione Granger."

He can tell she is processing everything that has happened in these short moments. She pulls her arm away gently from his grasp and hold it to her body, cradling it as if to protect it from harm. Nervously, she licks her lips, and her voice finds it's way to the world. "Your father tried to kill me, he's a Death Eater and he's just been detained and is going to Azkaban. You laughed at jokes about me and my blood status. Why are you saying these things to me?"

"I always thought this was the truth since meeting you. Why, if you are a 'mudblood', do you constantly best me and the other purebloods? Why do you captivate me the way you do? Why can I not find myself without thoughts of you? I am happy my father is going to be sent away and I am happy to see your side has won."

She laughs, a disbelieving laugh. The sun is making it's way through the morning overcast and her hair shines and bounces with her laughter. He cannot help himself, he just wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his lips, so he leans forward and presses his lips to her temple. She radiates warmth and he feels his stomach turn over, he has dreamed of this moment many times but under other circumstances. Perhaps if he had been braver, if had fought for the Light instead of being a bystander, afraid to act for fear of the repercussions from his father. Perhaps if he had been braver throughout his life then Hermione Granger would want him and would love him. Oh, it is love that he feels for this witch even as he feels the sting of a slap across his face.

"What are you playing at Nott?" Even angry his name on her tongue is beautiful. He doesn't get the chance to answer before someone in the crowd calls for her. She gives him one final look, her face mixed with confusion and contempt, before she turns and leaves him standing by himself in a sea of people. He imagines himself running to her and professing his love, but that's the brave side of himself that he has suppressed for years. Besides, Weasley seems to make her happy. And she deserves happy. He will always have his dreams, the memory of their hands touching, the memory of the warmth of her skin beneath his lips. Now, now it is finally time for Theo Nott to move on.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Not making money on this, so don't sue.**

 **AN: Sorry for the long break between the prologue and this chapter, life is hectic. I hope this is a nice start and you all enjoy.**

CHAPTER ONE

Theo Nott sat in his favourite, and most secluded, window sill in Malfoy Manor. The novel he had been trying to read lay dog-eared next to him after he finally admitted defeat in trying to concentrate enough to read through. It wasn't that the novel wasn't interesting, no, he rather found it was exciting, with its intense magic duels and dragons, a pretty witch and a brave wizard, and the pure adventure. No, he couldn't concentrate purely because tomorrow was the train ride back to Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall had visited the Manor early in July and had offered both he and Draco a chance to return for their final year, a re-do after the disastrous and chaotic last year. Theo had jumped at the chance, almost eagerly agreeing the moment the offer had left the tight-lipped professor's mouth; despite Narcissa Malfoy's generosity when she had offered Theo to stay at the Malfoy Manor after the Ministry seized the Nott Manor he never felt right here in this empty estate, save for himself, Draco, Narcissa, and the house elves. Hogwarts had felt like a home to him and he was eager to get back to that. And, despite his efforts to forget the pretty muggle-born witch, he had also been hopeful that Hermione Granger would be returning too. His need for a place to call home and his want for the bushy-haired witch sealed the deal for returning to Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy on the other hand, had to be nudged into returning by his mother. It would help their name and brand if he went back and interacted with muggle-borns without prejudice. Being rich and having the name Malfoy meant nothing in the wizarding world anymore, and without Lucius to schmooze his way back into the good graces of the Ministry, the effect of their outcast status was beginning to daunt on the ever proper Narcissa. It hadn't been enough that Harry Potter had testified for both her and Draco for them to avoid time in Azkaban, Harry had even told The Daily Prophet that the entire reason he was alive was due to Narcissa's lie to the Dark Lord. No, neither of these things helped their brand. She was still wife to currently incarcerated Lucius Malfoy, sister to very dead, and thankfully so, Bellatrix Lestrange, and her home had been Voldemort's headquarters. So, anything to bring a positive word to the Malfoy name, Narcissa did. Donating to various muggle-born causes, building a larger, more structurally sound house for the Weasley clan after it had suffered some major damage after the war had ended due to a rogue Death Eater attack, it had been much protested by most of the Weasleys, but plump, kind Molly Weasley could see the anguish that Narcissa Malfoy was suffering and graciously accepted the offer. And now, Narcissa was forcing her only son back to school so that he may interact with muggle-borns.

Almost two months to prepare for his return to the halls of Hogwarts did not do Theo any good. He was nervous. He knew despite Professor McGonagall's insistence that he and the other children of Death Eaters would not be ostracized, they surely would be. It was human nature. Theo, fancied himself brave, much like the heroes in the novels he used to read, but he could not ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. He would have no one, save for Draco and maybe a few other people. Of his Slytherin peers, he knew for sure that Gregory, Pansy, Tracey,and Millicent were definitely not returning to Hogwarts, and Theo did not blame them in the slightest. Blaise and Daphne had not reached back out to him, presumably because they were too lost in each other to notice anything else, having finally gotten together after a couple years of steadily building sexual tension between them. It was looking like the only ally Theo would have would be one platinum-haired Draco. Theo truly had a great deal of brotherly love for Draco, but he knew he was not the most reliable ally.

Lost in his thoughts, Theo stared out the window of the blue sky that deceivingly hid that it was actually a sweltering hot August afternoon. Sweat formed on his brow, his shirt sleeves rolled to the highest point they could possibly get past his elbows, buttons undone on his shirt, trouser pants pushed up past his knees, socks and shoes long abandoned. A rare smile crept across his lips as he imagined what his father would say if he could see Theo looking so much unlike the Pureblood-ed wizard his father had tried to breed him to be and to be daydreaming of a muggle-born witch at that. Despite the circumstances, Theo was utterly glad that his father, Thoros Nott, would be spending the rest of his days in Azkaban. Rotting away on the outside to match his abhorrent insides. These thoughts of how defiant Theo could be now be in a post-Voldemort world, without the abusive and ever watching eyes of his father, brought him great joy. And so, with a smile on his face is how Theo was interrupted from his thoughts by the ever prying Draco.

Theo quickly pulled back his smile as Draco took the seat in the sill opposite of him. Draco showed no signs of the heat bothering him the slightest in his dress form, his shirt and trousers proper like a Pureblood wizard should look, the only sign of the heat effecting him was an almost invisible line of sweat glistening along his platinum-colored hair line. He and Draco could not be more different, personality and appearance wise. Draco with his smug, condescending attitude, white-blonde hair, gray hair, and pale, almost luminescent, skin. Theo with his reserved, quiet personality, dark brown, almost black, hair that fell sloppily into his eyesight, green eyes, and olive skin. Despite their differences, Draco would always be the closest thing to a brother that Theo had and nothing would ever change that.

"What has got you smiling?" Draco asked, interrupting Theo from his thoughts.

"Nothing," Theo lied as convincingly as he could. It was futile, Draco could always tell when he was lying but he hoped that his friend would take the hint for once and not pry any further.

"You're lying, Theo." Theo couldn't tell him the full truth, because the full truth would involve a certain amber-eyed muggle-born witch, so Theo decided to give the half-truth and Draco would just have to deal with that.

"I was thinking of how I'd be disappointing my father if he could see me now, it's actually pretty amusing to me." Theo watched as his friend, who seemingly accepted the half-truth Theo had just given him looked deep in thought. Several long minutes then passed between the two before either talked.

"I can't believe Mother is making me go back to Hogwarts tomorrow. It's bad enough that she is on her own personal crusade to be tolerant witch extraordinaire, but she wants me to be on friendly terms with the muggle-borns." Draco paused as though he was contemplating whether he should continue speaking, before he continued, "Speaking of muggle-borns, I've heard through my mother's rumor mill that Granger won't be back. In fact, no one has seen the Gryffindor Princess since the final battle; it seems she's disappeared off the face of the earth and good riddance."

Theo stared at his friend, as he spoke and did not miss the way his friend's eyes flashed brightly when Granger was mentioned. Draco's eyes always did this and Theo was sure that he was the only one who caught this quirk in his friend's otherwise cool demeanor. Theo knew the truth, though Draco would never admit it, but he fancied Granger. Draco was an unwilling contestant in a competition for a winner-less race for Hermione Granger's affections.

Granger would never love either of them. Theo made the mistake of attempting to profess his feelings, Draco had been smart and kept them buried where they should be. If Theo hadn't have been so reckless from euphoria of surviving nearly dying, he wouldn't be in the position he was currently in, pining for memories of their hands touching even though it had been brief, the feel of her creamy skin beneath his touch. The music of her voice saying his name. The warmth she radiated when he pressed his lips to her skin. In a fleeting moment he had everything he could possibly want, and in that fleeting moment it was gone. She is the light and he the dark, a dark and unwanted presence struggling to make a place for himself in a post Death Eater society. She was the dream and the hope, and he couldn't stop himself for imagining what a future with her in his life would be like no matter how much he tried to rationalize with his feelings.

"Oh," Theo muttered trying to sound as uninterested as he could as he wiped the line of sweat that had formed on his forehead with his forearm. One of the reasons he was even going back to Hogwarts was to be near the smart, enthralling witch. Across from him Draco had pulled back the subtle clues of longing and was currently staring at his nails with a vague disinterest. Theo knew he could not question any further why Hermione Granger would not be back or else Draco would surely know.

"Yes, Mother heard the swot hasn't been seen since three weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts. Seemingly disappeared, thank Merlin."

"I can't help but to wonder where she is, don't you have some curiosity as to what happened to her?" Theo couldn't help it, he would gnaw at him if didn't ask. Theo couldn't help but to notice the sudden flash of a questioning look in Draco's eyes, but as quickly as it was there it was gone, replaced by cool steel-coloured eyes.

"I couldn't care less and besides, no one knows where she is, expect maybe the Weasel and Potter. Surely if Mother knew more she would be gossiping about it, but she doesn't," Draco spoke, his words carrying a tone of finality. He was done with the talk of the bushy-haired witch and his word would hold as the end of the conversation. An uncomfortable silence set in between the two young men as they spent the last of their day before school ignoring the gnawing beast settling in their minds with questions neither would like to ask the other.

* * *

 _"Don't stop," she panted into ear, his mouth on her neck, one hand tangled in her hair, his other snaked into her underwear, drawing small-tantalizing circles around her sensitive flesh. Theo loved being able to bring her to this point, wanting more, and more, and more from him and only him._

 _"Say my name Hermione, say what you want from me," Theo murmured into her sweet flesh, his voice becoming a warm vibration making her skin prickle with want, as he placed soft kisses on her neck, slowing his already leisurely teasing pace with his hand against her wet with need flesh, waiting for her to give him what he wanted so he could give her what she wanted, or-at this point-needed, too._

 _"I need you, Theo," Hermione's voice sputtered out eager for more so the tightly wrapped coil settling inside her would snap and let her release. Amber eyes, wide and glossy, met his green eyes, and she licked her dry lips before continuing in a soft whisper, "I love you."_

Theo's eyes snapped open, his breathing ragged and fast, as a sharp knock on his door jolted him from his dream bliss. His groin ached with remnants of the dream, wishing he could have continued on with the fantasy he knew was impossible. Groaning and willing his erection away before anyone would see, Theo rubbed his sleep-dazed eyes taking in the sunlight spilling through the window opposite his bed.

"Theo, Dear?" a feminine voice belonging to Narcissa called through the oak doors separating his room from the hall. "It's nearly time to go to the station. Draco and I will be waiting for you downstairs."

Without waiting for him to answer he could the padding of soft steps and the swish of her cloak disappearing down the hall. So, here it was. The day he had been both looking forward to and dreading. Maybe, just maybe, Hermione Granger would turn up even though supposedly she was missing to most of the magical world. Theo didn't have a clue what he would do either way as he rolled himself out of bed to start the day.


End file.
